Collide
by CC Writes
Summary: Birgitta thinks that her personality collides a bit too much with Tino's. Maybe it's because she's a bit more masculine than him? Either way, they collide, and that may not always be a bad thing. Fin/Fem!Sve. Songfic.


_**A/N;;**__ The lack of any gender bent SveFin, or not to mention the lack of SveFin in general makes me sad. These two are adorable! And not to mention, Fem!Sve is too sweet. She reminds me of my friend, kind of. She's adorable! Like Fem!Germany!_

_So, here is my contribution to the SveFin and Nyotalia section._

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><p><span>Collide<span>

_The dawn is breaking.  
>A light shining through.<em>

Sometimes she forgot what it felt like to not have to share a bed, and to be able to sleep by herself. She never really took up much room like the man next to her, and she usually slept curled up in a little ball, almost, on her side of the bed.

Sometimes she'd just lay in bed, staying up all night, thinking, and then by the time she drifted off to sleep, she would feel rays of light hitting her face, and she'd have to get up. It wasn't something she enjoyed, having to leave bed to live another sleepless day and attend boring meetings she'd fall asleep in or fend off a psychotic Dane, but she knew she had to.

_You're barely waking.  
>And I'm tangled up in you.<br>Yeah._

But today was not like most days. It wasn't like she purposely could not get out of bed, but she could not move. She was in a tight embrace, and warm, thermal energy was transferred from something to her body. She picked up her head and watched her bedmate stir beside her, his long, light blond locks messy, and pale skin disappearing into the fabric of her nightgown. She flushed, and tried to loosen his grip on her.

Sitting up, the Finn beside her buried his head under many pillows, mumbling, "I don't wanna get up…" She snorted.

"Then don't." He popped up from beneath a sea of fluffy pillows, and he made a face of annoyance. She grabbed her jacket and boots, sliding them on, and leaving the room. Sitting up, the Finn raised an eyebrow, and mouthed something to himself before standing up to wake the little micronation down the hall.

_But I'm open, you're closed.  
>Where I follow, you'll go.<em>

"Mama, look!"

"I'm not your mother." Serving a plate of bacon and eggs to the almost teenage blond, the violet eyed Finn looked out the window. "Yes, it's snowing hard. I hope Sve hurries up." Taking a sip of coffee, the door opened, and there was the tall female, removing her boots, and the blue eyed boy flew up to Sve.

"Papa Sve, aren't you cold? You went out there in a dress!" Smiling, Sweden picked up her "son" and walked over to Finland. Her long, dirty blonde hair was tied back and up, and the boy laughed. "Mama Finland!"

"I'm not your mother." Turning, and handing Sweden her cup of coffee, Finland said, "Eduard and I are going out to get some things for Denmark's party. Stay warm, and make sure Peter stays inside. He still has a bit of a cold."

"But Ma-!"

"Sealand!" Finland shouted, grabbing his heavy winter coat. The micronation hushed, and Finland said, "I'll be back in time for dinner."

_I'm worried I won't see your face  
>Light up again.<em>

As the door shut, Peter watched as his "papa's" expression changed into a frown and she set him down. "Pa?" he watched as she knelt down.

"Gonn' t'ke ah sh'wer. B' good." Sliding into the bathroom, she began the hot water, and let it run over her hand. Why did it seem like lately, all Finland wanted was to be away from her? She would wake up and when she got back from taking care of morning chores, he was ready to head out the door or sent her on a mission to keep her away.

"T'no… why d'ya h'te m'?" she muttered, stepping into the shower and letting the warm water massage the knots from her back. Her deep blue eyes were staring the bottom of the white tub, and she was near tears, feeling useless. He hasn't smiled in weeks, and maybe he was tired of her? Tired of her constantly calling him her wife, even though she was the woman? It wasn't her faults, as Vikings did not take kindly to women, so most of her young life was spent being a boy.

Was he tired of belonging to someone? Centuries of being under another's rule, and now he was free, yet she didn't want him to leave her home. It was his dream to be independent, and now he had it, yet couldn't escape her.

_Even the best fall down some times.  
>Even the wrong words seem to rhyme.<br>Out of the doubt that fills my mind.  
>I somehow find you and I collide.<em>

Now, she respected the Finn's individuality, and never tried to once suppress it. But maybe being with her so much had done so without her noticing? The nation was smaller than she, and much kinder than she was or could be, but maybe years of desensitizing him of his culture had gotten to him.

One thing she remembered is how that first night away from Denmark, he had tried to lighten the mood and ease his fear of her by whenever she said something, he'd try to find a word to rhyme with it. Sometimes he'd mispronounce words to make it work, and when she spoke in Swedish, he'd make it up. She remembered looking at him one night as he slept, and thinking, '_Wow. How did I end up with someone this great?_' She doubted the fact he would stay long, but very soon, days turned into weeks, and weeks somehow skipped months and became years. Every hour she had with him was a gift.

She knew he wouldn't tolerate her fading barbaric ways, as she was still heavily influenced by the Vikings that raised her. He was a sophisticated young man, and she was a former pillager. However, at the beginning, they blended so well.

What had happened?

_I'm quiet, you know.  
>You make a first impression.<em>

"Sve! I'm home!" The voice snapped her back into reality, and she jumped out of the shower, grabbing a long towel that Norway had made her, and looked at the clock. Had it really been almost two hours? Grabbing her glasses, she opened the door. "Guess who I saw?"

"Who?" she called from the bathroom door.

"Romania's little brother Moldova, and he was with this adorable little Central Asian nation, Kyrgyzstan!" Smiling, Sve pushed open the door, and sighed. "She seemed to open up to me quickly." It was no doubt her "wife" was friendly and easy to talk to.

He heard the back door open, and she stepped out. "It really is a nice night!" he called through an open window, and she nodded, slipping into the bedroom. After dressing into navy blue slacks and a white blouse, she stepped out of the room, drying her hair.

"Hey, F'nl'nd?" she called, looking out into the kitchen, and noticing an absence of the male she was calling to. Stepping out, she peered out the kitchen window onto the back porch, and saw him standing out into the cold wind.

"Oh, Birgitta…" he sighed, and she gasped, ducking down as he turned to face the window she was peering out.

_I've found I'm scared to know  
>I'm always on your mind.<em>

Flushing a bright red, soaking dirty blonde locks framed her face as she tried to hear what her smaller companion was saying, but it was hard to hear from the wind outside and her position on the kitchen floor. "Oh, Sve! Come join me!"

Crawling toward the hallway, she stood up, and tiptoed outside, the cold air blowing onto her somewhat drying skin. "Isn't it a pretty night?" She looked up, and approached him, her neutral expression reading nothing.

_Even the best fall down sometimes.  
>Even the stars refuse to shine.<br>Out of the back you fall in time.  
>You somehow find you and I collide.<em>

"Not many starts as I hoped to be, but you know…" Tino's big, purple shaded orbs turned to her and he offered a comforting smile, and she flushed, turning away, her glasses sliding down her nose.

"They're there." She offered a half smile, and explained, "The st'rs j'st don't sh'ne 'll th't m'ch." He frowned at this explanation, and he crossed his arms, looking at her, questioning her reasoning. "Some st'rs… they're f'rther 'way. They 'ren't 's br'ght 's the one closer t' us."

Nodding, he said, "You're a smart woman, Sve." How come he never called her by name to her face? She looked down as he turned his body away from her, and offered a hand. "Come on, I'll start dinner." It seemed so odd to see the petite male say this, when maybe, by stereotype, she should say this, but she knew cooking wasn't a strong point.

Opening the door, she stepped inside, and he followed. They meshed so well, yet sometimes they just collided together.

_Don't stop here.  
>I'm lost my place.<br>I'm close behind._

Starting the fire, she listened to the extra background noise, as Peter complained about being dragged away from his video games, like any normal teen would, and Tino scolded him like any other parent would, and try to get her involved and take his side like most normal families do. "L'sten t' T'no, Peter." Then Peter would freak out like a normal teen would.

"Dinner's almost ready! Sve, are you hungry?" Shaking her head, she sat down in the soft plush chair, and the Finn frowned. "Sweden! You know dinner together is important."

Even though she felt at a loss, she stood up, just to humor her tiny object of affection, and he grabbed her hand, walking her over to the table. "Peter, would you pass me the salt?"

"No!"

"Do 's he s'ys, Peter." Groaning, the old British fort unwillingly complied, and dinner went on in silence.

_Even the best fall down sometimes.  
>Even the wrong words seem to rhyme.<em>

Sitting in the plush chair, she sipped from her small cup the bit of tea she had made, and watched the glowing screen on the TV flash by with daily news briefs. Deep blue irises studied the screen as they babbled on about pointless celebrities, and stupid briefs about a new store opening up.

"Sweden, are you feeling alright?"

"Been better." Taking a seat by her feet, the Finn with the soft, bleach blond hair laughed lightly, and she kept her framed eyes on the screen.

"Better is better than…" he hummed in thought, and she glanced at the male, and he twisted his body around to face her. "Come on, Sve! Help me out here! You're a smart nation, you know your rhymes?" Shrugging, he turned around and said, "There are at least nineteen words without perfect rhymes, and purple is not one of them."

_Out of the doubt that fills your mind.  
>You finally find you and I collide.<em>

She smiled, and he turned around to face her, resting his head in her lap, saying, "You know, Sweden," he began, drawing circles on the carpet floor, and watching as it stayed imprinted onto the warm floor. "I don't know what it is about you, but something puts me at ease."

She snorted, and Tino's eyes met hers. "Co'ld h've fooled m'." He frowned, and shook his head, clicking his tongue in a distasteful manner, and Birgitta crossed her arms. "Wh't?"

"Birgitta, Birgitta, Birgitta…" he sighed, and reached into his pocket. "Oh, Birgitta Susan Oxenstierna. Oh, my clueless little Swede, my darling Viking warrior. You've been dense to all the signs?"

"Ya me'n ya never be'ng home 'nd never c'll'ng me by n'me?" she hissed, with more bitterness in her voice. "'nd j'st recently too." He frowned, and removed his hand from his pocket, and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"Recently? Yes, it has been very recently." Grinning like a mischievious child, the nation pulled out something small and shiny, and her narrowed eyes looked as if they would pop out of her head. "You don't think I had my reasons? All the times I went out with Eduard to shop, when we searched every damn jewelry store in Finland and Sweden to find this?"

Her voice faded as she tried to speak, and never before had words had so much trouble coming to her. "Tino!" she squeaked.

"One condition," he slipped the ring onto her finger, and she nodded. "You will never call me wife again."

All she could do was nod, and in the dim light of the television, Tino smiled, kissing her hand, and laying his head down on her legs, and she smiled, brushing fingers through his blond hair, ridding it of slight tangles and knots.

_You finally find you and I collide.  
>You finally find you and I collide.<em>

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><p><em>I do not own Hetalia or "Collide" by Howie Day.<em>

_Sappy ending is sappy because we all love sappy endings with marriage proposals. And yes, part of me feels that Fem!Sweden would act like a total guy, because if my world history teacher is correct, women aren't seen as equals to the Vikings, and usually were suffering at their hands._

_Peter is a moody little teenager. Poor, awkward Peter._

_Not much to say. I'm not proud of the ending, but it satisfies me, and makes me slightly happy._

_**Adios~!  
><strong>__Darlene :)_


End file.
